


The Next Great Baker

by TheDisneyOutsider



Series: Iron Dad and His Spider-Son [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Superheros in the Kitchen, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is a Good Mentor, it's not a complete disaster, mentor/mentee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDisneyOutsider/pseuds/TheDisneyOutsider
Summary: Peter needs some help with his school bake sale, so of course, he goes to Tony
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Iron Dad and His Spider-Son [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796242
Comments: 10
Kudos: 217





	The Next Great Baker

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute little fic! This one's not thoroughly edited so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy!

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter greeted as he entered the lab, where Tony was fiddling with an Iron Man helmet, “The new doorman in the lobby gave me a Twix bar... and a banana, he said ‘growing boys need enriching vitamins’, or something like that... he’s kind of odd, but I like him!” he finished in one breath and then took a bite of the banana.

“Yeah, Pepper’s idea actually,” Tony nodded, “thought it was a good idea to hire some senior citizens to be greeters, help give them a purpose and all that.”

“Pepper’s a smart lady,” Peter pointed out through a mouth full of banana.

“That she is Kid, part of the reason I’m marrying her. I’ll have to give Norman a raise for keeping our Spider-Kid well-fed.”

“You know his name, too?”

“Despite popular belief, I know everybody’s name and face in this building, Underoos. It’s important, not only to make my employees feel more appreciated but also to know who’s coming in and out of my building each day.”

“Isn’t that what FRIDAY’s for? And Happy’s badges?”

Tony shrugged, “It makes me feel better knowing certain things all on my own. We can’t always rely on technology, and yes, before you say it, I know that sounds hypocritical coming from me, so can the comments.”

Peter giggled, changing the subject nevertheless, “So I actually came here for a reason.”

“Oh yeah? Not just the free food we apparently give out in the lobby now?”

Peter shook his head, pulling his backpack off his back and digging for something inside.

“I brought cookies!” he exclaimed, thrusting a tin at Tony, “Try one.”

Tony gave him a quizzical look, “You came all the way over here to let me try a cookie you baked? Why--”

“Just try one?” Peter whined, cutting the man off.

Still not understanding the situation, Tony carefully opened the tin and pulled out a baked good from within. Peter watched as he took a large bite, and suddenly Tony’s eyes went wide.

“How is it?” Peter asked eagerly.

Tony half choked, have coughed, “It’s...uh. I’m sorry, kid, I can’t tell if I’m being Punked or poisoned. It tastes like paint thinner.”

There was a small part of Tony that was worried he would crush the boy’s spirits with the proclamation, but he knew his reaction had given it away anyway, he might as well be honest.

Surprisingly, Peter just smiled. “Okay, good. So, you see what I’m working with here!”

Tony raised his eyebrow, “So you _were_ trying to poison me?”

“NO, Tony,” Peter sighed, “We’re having a bake sale tomorrow to raise money for the next decathlon trip, and we all need to bring a baked good to sell.”

“So, you’re trying to poison your _classmates_?”

Peter gave him a pointed look, “ _Those_ are what Aunt May made me for my contribution before she left for her late shift at the hospital.”

“Oh...” It finally clicked for Tony.

“Yeah, I can’t bring those!” Peter stressed, “My reputation’s already not that great.”

“Alright,” Tony shrugged, “Bake something yourself then.”

“ _I_ can’t bake! Look who my teacher was!” Peter was practically yelling as he motioned to the tin.

“Then go to the store and buy something. Do you need some money?” Tony suddenly realized what the problem might be and reached for his wallet.

“NO! I can’t bring store-bought cookies to a bake sale! That’s like the worst thing a person can do!”

“We’re being awfully dramatic today,” Tony joked, but he realized the humor was not reciprocated when he noticed the boy’s glare, “Jeez, okay, well what do you need me to do about this then? We could head down to the cafeteria and see what the ladies made today.”

The boy shook his head rapidly, “I need you to help me bake something.”

“ _Me_ ,” Tony chuckled, “What makes you think I’m any better than Aunt Hottie? I have four ovens in my kitchen and I don’t think I’ve ever personally used one.”

“Why do you even need-- Never mind, the point is, you told me your mom used to bake amazing pastries all the time! You must be able to recreate one of them!”

Tony was suddenly wrapped up in memory of watching his mom whipping around the kitchen as if the baking tools were an extension of her own arms. _Come here bambino, a man needs to know his way around a kitchen just as much as a woman does, let me teach you._ Cooking days with his mom were some of his fondest childhood memories, and probably one of the biggest reasons Tony didn’t find himself working in the kitchen too much these days. As much as the memories were warm and inviting, they also left a gaping hole in his heart.

He shook his head, “I can’t--”

“PLEASE, Tony! Everyone will hate me if I don’t bring anything. I’m already known as the charity case.”

Tony furrowed his brows, he didn’t like that at all, “Who’s been saying that to you?” he asked, ready to ruin the future of whatever little stuck-up, rich, snob was bullying his kid.

“It doesn’t matter! Please, just...” he trailed off, his eyes rounded and wide.

“Okay, fine,” there was no way Tony would ever be able to say no to anything the kid asked when he was looking at him like that, “There is one recipe that I know pretty well. Fri? Can you check that we have all the ingredients to make Mom’s Jam cookies?”

“Affirmative, Boss.”

“Wonderful.”

“Thank you, Tony! I owe you one!” Peter rambled, following his mentor out of the lab.

“Let’s wait until they actually turn out before singing my praise, yeah?”

Peter nodded but was pretty sure they would turn out, despite Tony’s doubts. He had yet to see Tony not accomplish anything he set his mind to.

As soon as they made it to the kitchen, the boys got busy pulling out the ingredients from the list FRIDAY had pulled up for them. The recipe was fairly simple, though a bit tedious.

They started on the dough, Peter attempting to crack an egg as Tony watched him, more yolk making it onto the counter than into the bowl.

“Wow, bud, you don’t need super-strength to crack an egg! Small taps,” Tony guided, trying to keep things calm. Tony’s mother never raised her voice when Tony was learning, and he was sure that was why they were able to make it through without his hotheaded self ever storming off in frustration.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled, concentrating on cracking the second one like Tony had said.

Once all the ingredients were mixed together, Peter inspected the dough with a frown, “It’s a bit... dry.”

Tony nodded in agreement, “It’s hard to believe considering the amount of flour that made it onto the counter and floor and _walls_ , but I think we added too much. We’ll just add a little water.”

He brought the bowl over to the sink and poured a tablespoon of water into the mixture.

“It worked!” Peter cheered when the dough started to stick together, forming a kneaded ball.

“Perfect, now we have to roll it out and cut them into circles, two per cookie. There’s most likely enough flour already on the counter, I doubt it will stick, but you can add a little more just to be sure.”

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” Peter commented as he did as instructed.

“At baking?” Tony inquired.

“At teaching,” the boy specified. “I’m not frustrated or confused like I am usually when I attempt anything in the kitchen. It’s actually kind of fun.”

“Well, I did learn from the best,” Tony shrugged.

“I wish I could have met her, your mom.”

Tony smiled, the familiar ache still there, but the activity had brought back that old feeling of warmth as well, “You would have loved her. God, she would have loved you, too.”

“Really?” the boy looked to him with wondering eyes. He rolled out some dough, causing a puff of flour to cover his face and clothes.

Tony laughed at the boy, covered head to toe in white, reminding him so much of his younger self at that moment, “Yeah, she really would have.”

Twenty minutes later, Peter placed the very last cut out onto the baking sheet and wiped at his brow. “Okay, no more cutting, I don’t have that kind of patience!”

Tony let out a hearty laugh, “I admit, that’s the longest I think I’ve ever seen you sit still.”

“Hey! What about when I broke my leg that time and it took two days for it to heal?” Peter reminded, pushing the baking sheet into the oven that Tony had opened for him.

“You were practically vibrating the entire time in your bed and driving everyone crazy. That most certainly _does not_ count. Now we have to wait twenty minutes for them to bake.”

“Great! Enough time for a snack!” Peter grinned, heading over to the fridge.

Tony shook his head fondly, “The only person I know who can think about their next snack while baking something else.”

“It’s not like I can eat the cookies when they’re done! Besides, that banana didn’t last long.”

“What about the Twix?” The man reminded.

“Last week you told me chocolate wasn’t an appropriate snack for a growing spider. Seriously, you’re getting worse than May!” The boy rolled his eyes.

“I’m getting scared by May, more like. She threatened me with about an inch of my life that I need to be more responsible when you’re around. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, _Me_!”

“You’re totally responsible, Mr. Stark,” Peter agreed with a mischievous grin.

“You know, I can _hear_ the sarcasm in your voice, but I’m going to choose to ignore it because your words are right. And thanks for throwing that Mr. Stark in there, it makes me sound like I’m teaching you well how to respect your elders.”

“Actually, it was May who taught me that. You’re the one who threatened to ban me from the suit until I started calling you Tony,” Another cheeky grin from the boy.

Tony rolled his eyes and tutted, “Why don’t you start up on those dishes you little hellion.”

Peter did start the dishes because Aunt May also taught him not to leave a mess for other people to clean up. He was elbow-deep in the soapy water when a sharp smell hit his nose.

“Tony? How long have the cookies been in there?”

Tony looked up from his computer where he was answering a quick email and said, “Sixteen minutes, it should be good for another-- shit!”

A puff of smoke escaped from the oven and the two jumped from their spots, Peter reaching the oven first, but Tony quickly pushing him aside, “Move away,” he ordered, opening the oven carefully.

To Tony’s relief, a flame did not meet him on the other side, but to both their dismay, some pretty black cookies did.

“What happened!” Peter was the first to react, reaching over to turn the oven off.

“I don’t know, Fri?”

“It would seem that the recipe indicated the treats should only be baked for ten minutes, Sir.”

“Ugh!” Peter cried, “Now I still don’t have anything for the bake sale!”

“I must have mixed up my recipes,” Tony scratched the back of his neck, “It’s fine though, we still have lots of ingredients and these didn’t take us hardly any time at all. We’ll just make another batch.”

“ _More_ rolling and cutting out,” Peter cried dramatically.

“Oh hush,” Tony swatted his shoulder, “I’ll do the rolling this time, alright?”

“You know, it’s getting pretty late. At this rate you’re going to have to feed me supper,” Peter pointed out.

“Excuuuuse me, who’s helping who here, huh?” Tony questioned.

“Aww come on Tony, I’m hungry!”

Tony shook his head and rolled his eyes, “You’re impossible you know that? And did you really think I was going to let you leave without filling that bottomless spider belly first?”

Peter perked up, “Can we order now? Then it will be here by the time we’re done these.”

“Yes, whatever, I’ll slave here. You go on and give FRIDAY our order, drain my bank account.”

“You’ve told me a million times that’s impossible,” Peter raised his eyebrow, and he looked so much like Tony that the older man couldn’t help but burst out in a laugh.

“Well if I had to drain it on anything, it would be on you, Spider-Kid. Order away.”

Forty-five minutes later, the cookies were cooled, the jam was spread and the boys were sitting, still sticky-fingered, enjoying their meal.

“Thanks for helping me today Tony, these cookies are so good!” Peter said, biting off a bit of his tester cookie, which they were dubbing their dessert.

“Anytime, kid. It was fun,” Tony admitted, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time.”

He knew that somewhere, wherever there might be, his mom was smiling, watching her son and the boy he had grown to love like his own son, making new memories out of old. And somehow, that gaping hole in his heart felt just a tiny bit smaller.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I actually told my grandma that her cookies tasted like PlayDoh when I was little. (I swear they totally did!) It's still something we laugh about all the time.
> 
> I hope you liked this! Please leave a comment if you did! They make me want to write more and let me know if my work is any good!


End file.
